Bits and Pieces
by Borrowed Twenties
Summary: One-shots: The pieces of life are all part of a bigger picture. Perhaps, they all allow an inner glimpse into the depths of their hearts, where their purity shines through. And maybe, under all this, they really are ordinary, fallible people after all.
1. Overrated

I have way too many spare ideas for COTT that I can't quite plunk down anywhere, so I have decided to start off this fic. Yeah, they're just random little bits that suddenly like to spring into my head in the dead of the night. Drabbles, oneshots, the works - anything I think of that doesn't fit anywhere else, I'll just write it here. I guess. Though you would be pleased to know that the following oneshot here is an AA friendship (and a bit more than that) one.

Disclaimer: I don't claim to own an ounce of COTT, or there would be a Season 3.

**Overrated**

_A scream._

_The woman let out a high-pitched shriek, and although he never heard it, he might as well have - her mouth, opened in a silent scream; attacker raising cocked gun..._

A shudder involuntarily hit him, as he finally pulled the book away from his face. The purple-haired warrior sighed. He despised war, and held a certain disgust in regard to it, but it somewhat intrigued him of sorts. Maybe that was due to a wonky gene from Archilles. Or maybe he had started to begin a somewhat twisted interest in fighting ever since his orphanage days.

Anyway, he had long given up on war books ever since he was fourteen. The images that continued to stay in his head were disturbing, disgusting and he had no wish to view of them again. It had been an assignment for history, and being the lucky person he was, he had gotten one of the worse topics to embark a project on - _war_. Of course, it didn't help that his partner, who was the most likely to start a 'war' with him, was none other than his dormmate with fiery hair and an equally fiery temper to boot.

_Atlanta_.

Okay, so she wasn't the worse person in the world to do a project with, and at least they hadn't gotten 'Romance' as their topic, which would have been plain awkward. And as much as he said that he hated working with her, it was quite the contrary, really. He of course wouldn't dwell on, uh, said opinion.

Out of the blue, the door swung open with a crash and the person he had just been thinking about barged in as though it were her own room. As she was bounding in, he glimpsed the report she had been working on clutched firmly in her hand.

Archie groaned. "What is it, Atlanta?" he questioned, feigning irritation. "Do you know the meaning of the word 'knock'?"

The good friend that she was, she just ignored him. "We have to find out the motivation of the war. We picked the Titanomachy to focus on, so what were they fighting about?"

Archie's face darkened considerably. "Oh, the usual," he said bitterly. "Vying for power, greed, hungry for the position of top dog, revenge, that sort of thing. People say life is so valuable, yet just for such a relatively insignificant thing, wars can erupt."

Atlanta gazed at her report. "I suppose what you've just said is a better conclusion than what I tried," she said slowly. Archie wasn't listening to her, though.

"Life is so overrated," Archie muttered out loud in continuation to what he had said just now. Still, he hadn't been counting on Atlanta hearing it.

Well, apparently she did, because she immediately fixed on him a weird stare. "What do you mean?"

Archie's grey eyes widened a little, flushed from the fact that she actually _did_ hear him. Then again, she was a huntress, so sharp hearing would have been a given. "I don't know, people think too highly of life," he grumbled, crossing his arms.

He witnessed his best friend's eyebrows come together in a sort-of frown. She, too, crossed her arms. "Hey, there's nothing wrong with life. Life is good!"

Archie rolled his eyes exasperatedly. "Oh, so _you_ call a daily life tackling evil gods and ferocious monsters good? Or the fact that the evil god has a portal that he keeps escaping into because he's such a chicken, and that we have to fight his pathetic schemes on a at least weekly basis? Or how about that we might actually lose each other?"

_Wow_, he thought, dismayed, _that last line sure came out sounding wrong._

He watched as her expression turned from a raised brow to one that didn't quite fully mask her confusion. _Yeah_, he thought to himself sarcastically, _it's all about the wording._

Fighting to keep out the slight, nervous tremor from his voice, he voiced a tad too quickly, "No, wait, that wasn't what you thought it was."

_Oh, so that's much better? 'That wasn't what you thought it was'? How _would_ you know what she was thinking?_ The annoying tiny voice in his head taunted, and Archie suddenly felt inclined to knock his head into a wall. Not that it wouldn't be a cause for more questioning.

Atlanta blinked, the blank look unmistakable on her face.

Archie grinned nervously and took a deep, 'barely unnoticeable' breath and continued. "Alright, what I meant was - I meant that any of the team is at risk of being killed every time we fight off Cronus."

Ah, so he'd said it properly this time.

"Oh." was all Atlanta said for a while. Nodding slowly, she finally asked, "Anyway, it isn't that bad. Life isn't bad, much. It's fun fighting off monsters, brings a whole new thrill into things." She grinned wickedly, leaning on his desk with a casual note that few people would with him. "It's awesome that I get to trumph you all the time," - of which Archie responded with a violent and indignant "Hey!" - "and well, there's a lot of cool things that life has."

Archie couldn't help but smile at Atlanta's definition of 'good'. "But life throws you troubles," he pointed out.

Atlanta cocked her head to one side, as if thinking. "Well, but then it's up to us what to make of it. You know, there's always a choice of sorts."

Archie felt an unsuppressed snort rise from within him and escape before he could do anything. "What, have you been spending too much time with Odie or something? Calculating all the rational reasons behind life?"

His best friend responded with a glare. "Well, no! But it makes sense, doesn't it?" She smiled triumphantly, as though she had won the lottery. "See, who actually believes in destiny? I believe in myself, that I can do something about it."

_Trust Atlanta to trust _in_ Atlanta_, Archie thought inwardly. It was one of the qualities that endeared her to him, and so much more. But he had to disagree. "That's not true," he fought back, sounding a little more snappish than he wanted. "There isn't always a choice!"

"There is!"

"There isn't!"

"There is!"

Archie glowered at her, annoyed, and she faced him with a similar look. "There isn't always a choice! I never chose to have my parents killed in a blizzard! I never chose to become an orphan! Life decided it all for me; there were _no_ choices, Atlanta!"

He halted. Bowing his head, he refused to look her in the eye. Needless to say, why he thought life was so overrated had now been exposed to his best friend. People spoke of life as it was precious, but in actuality, it was so fragile. It had given him nearly nothing, and whatever it had given him, it had taken back. Why did people find life to be so strangely revitalising and beautiful?

Still, she was so innocent, a trait that he had grown to be fond of. He didn't like to shatter any bit of that innocence, and maybe he had.

She probably hadn't seen as many deaths as he had, or as many tears. He never wanted to spread his broken self to her.

He swallowed. "Sorry," he whispered, his voice small all of a sudden. "Didn't mean that."

Atlanta sat herself down beside him. The thickness of the air hindered any form of speech, and neither knew what to say.

"Well, life _did_ lead me to meet you," Atlanta spoke, piercing the awkwardness that had lasped between them. She hadn't really realised the full meaning of what she had said, and perhaps only Archie did, for he looked up, blushing a beetroot red.

"Life let us become good friends, you know." Atlanta pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Life... Life let us know each other, fight with each other, love each other, right?" She paused, and with a hint of embarrassment, she added, "You know what I mean, as friends."

She's right, his mind reminded him. It was because of life that you know her, you love her, isn't it?

Archie sighed. "You're right," he admitted with a wry smile. "You're right."

Atlanta nodded, apparently satisfied. She got up, tossing the report she had been holding all along onto his bed. "Well, now enough of all this war issues, do you want to go for a jog now?" She smirked, an air of her usual confidence evident as she spoke. "I'll race you there, and I'll win."

Archie put his hands on his hips. "Like real you will." He grabbed Atlanta's part of the project and placed it on his desk, then headed to his closet to grab a change of clothes. "Fine, we'll go for a jog. Let me change and I'll meet you downstairs."

Atlanta beamed at him. "Sure."

Just as she was leaving, he murmured under his breath with a slight smile, "Maybe life isn't so overrated after all."

She stopped in the hallway, turning around. "What did you say?"

He smiled, his back still to her.

"Hmm? Absolutely nothing."


	2. Reflections

I think I failed to mention that not all of these are AA. I guess there might be some JT, who knows? I'm here, going completely with the flow of inspiration. When the muse talks, it's time for me to listen ;D

Thanks all who read and reviewed, I really appreciate it. Hope you enjoy this installment! I'm sure you can guess who the speaker in this chapter is. It contains spoilers from Phantom Rising, and this one is written in 2nd person. After all, I have just written an essay of sorts in 2nd person, so I thought I'd try this newfound writing style out for COTT.

**Reflections**

_"No matter how powerful she is, she is not immortal."_

It has been a week since Theresa had stabilised, but somehow, the words of your own keep replaying in your head. These were the words you had told Jay when Theresa's aura was still running loose.

Still, you have to wonder: was it really you? That cold, harsh voice and heartless, cruel words... Had you really said it?

You admonish yourself for what you have said, but it is too late - you cannot take it back. Now you realise Theresa was merely a child, a mortal, and you really had no wish for Jay, let alone any of the other teammates, to do away with her, and thankfully they hadn't obeyed your indirect orders. Theresa wasn't only a child - she was almost like _your_ child. You had seen her laugh along with the other children, she was part of the team, she was even your protege's crush of sorts. You loved her, and in some ways, you could say that she loved you, too.

You were caught up in the heat of the moment, undoubtedly angry that she had stolen your powers and was using them to try and destroy your husband. You had forgotten that she had a motive, and after one bout of questioning, you had entirely left it at that, deciding she was instead evil. It pains you to notice that you were so cold. You could have foreseen this, and should have known that this was going to happen. It was quite inevitable - the strain was great, and they were undeniably young. Instead, you and the other gods had overlooked this on the likes of Cronus, not caring about their equally-important welfare.

You don't understand why you hadn't thought that you were pushing them too hard. It was only a matter of time before one of them cracked, and you hadn't cared. Theresa was just an example.

Now, as you think about it, you promise to yourself that you will never again allow this to happen. You know they never should have their lives tainted with this kind of pressure. They had given up their chance as ordinary teenagers just to fight off Cronus and save the world. Yes, they deserve better and you want to give it to them, but you can't.

You used to think mortals were pathetic creatures whom were much more lowly than any of your ranks. You hated having anything to do with them, because you thought they could teach you nothing. But you were soundly wrong. Those 'lowly' mortals, through their actions, showed you that there was so much for you to learn. You started to understand how firmly they clutched to their friendship, how they would sacrifice themselves for one another. And that by no means was a sign of weakness - it was a sign of strength within the team.

Theresa's incident told you of your pride. For the first time, you tasted a strange, new feeling - humility. You were a goddess and you couldn't get injured, yet you were powerless when you were turned mortal. For once, you slipped right into their shoes. Those children were the _real_ heroes, because although they could lose their lives, they continued to press on.

As you ponder on this with a slight smile on your face, you vow that if one of them ever turned psychotic, you wouldn't give up on them so easily.

Because, sometimes, people deserved to have their faith rewarded with faith.


	3. Respect

Alright, I'm having this endless bout of writer's block so I'm having difficulty getting _anything_ out. I wrote a very long one-shot on AA, only to throw it out, not because it wasn't well-written, but because it didn't quite seem like a one-shot, and the ideas were bordering large-scale rather than anything else. Therefore, it will make an appearance instead in **With Everything to Fear**, which has yet to come out because of my painfully slow updating time. I apologise.

Anyway, I've been re-writting everything over and over again, and it's driving me simply nuts! Gah. Finally, here I bring to you yet another installment. I imagine this to have happened in the show, really, and this also echoes the respect I would feel if said respected person was real.

**Respect**

He had used to live his life, choosing to go without respect for others. He always thought he was better, smarter, faster, stronger.

When he heard that Jay was to be the leader of the team, he had bristled in anger. To him, Jay was just a lowly, weak person and didn't deserve the role of leadership. One day, when the both of them were alone, he had proceeded to voice out his anger, demanding that he be the one to lead the team and that he was so much better than Jay.

Now that he looked back at his fiery actions, he could say that he was rather ashamed of what he did. Still, he remembered Jay's simple response: "I know." It was one that had caused his fury to rage stronger by Jay's seeming lack of concern. He challenged Jay to a fight, but Jay merely answered that they were supposed to be a team, and therefore did not accept his challenge.

That had struck him as a sign of incredible weakness, and as Archie spat on Jay with much disgust and walked away, he had been so convinced that Jay was a terribly lousy leader.

And then it happened.

There was a battle against Cronus again. He still recalled the blade as it gleamed in the harsh glow of the sunlight. It sought its target with incredible speed, and as he lay on the floor, paralysed with fear, he truly felt the real meaning of death nearing. To his utmost surprise, his leader had leapt forward, pushing him away and taking the blow to his arm.

When cowardice forced Cronus to slip through one of his portals, Archie had stood above his pained leader with a mark of distaste. His own words still rung out as clearly as it did that day.

"Why did you do that? Because you're our leader?"

The thick red liquid was seeping through the garish colours of that familiar sweater. Jay had been clutching his arm, fingers stained in blood. He shook his head calmly, wincing a little at the pain.

_"No, because you're my friend."_

It was those words that had hit him like a ton of bricks. A sudden realisation that nearly knocked him off his feet. He had found the reason why Jay was worthy to be a leader.

It was the first time he found his respect for Jay.

As always, respect had to be earned, and Archie completely believed in that. Yet at that moment, there was a rush of emotions, a myraid of them swarming over him. The aching guilt consumed his head as he watched his leader get to his feet determinedly without help and stumbled away. Regret was the first thing that jumped into his heart, and since then, he had completely respected his leader.

Over time, he had learnt that Jay had so many outstanding qualities that only shone when light fell on them. Not quite so physical or obvious they were, yet they were of just as much importance. Loyalty to his friends wasn't his only best trait, though it was what pushed him to sacrifice himself for the sake of his friends. No, their leader was determined, fearless, motivating, humble, patient and responsible. Jay could think on his feet - he was a strategist, very good at dividing them up in teams to maximise their strengths.

But most of all, Jay had a good heart.

Time and time again, Jay won Archie's respect. Archie had come to realise why Jay was the leader and why he himself wasn't cut out to be one, and the differences they both held in regard to attitude.

And for once, he willingly accepted it.


	4. Rain

I just wanted to do another take of the battle. Usually, in other stories, they win even if there was a sacrifice. I also thought about Theresa's burdens somehow and it so happened to find its own way in when I was writing. The writer's block still applies here, although I am endeavouring to do away with it. Well, anyway, here is some JT and AA for you as well. Enjoy! (:

**Rain**

_Drip_.

Theresa gazed out of the window, her soulful eyes searching till they came to rest on the figure. Huge droplets dotted the window as a huge blur, and she could vaguely make out his form in the pouring rain. Above, on the roof, gentle drops dripped from above continuously.

_Drip._

"No..." The whisper involuntarily left her mouth, her emerald eyes shining with unshed tears. The raindrops fell, sliding off the window with painstaking slowness. The only thought that came to her mind as she smiled bitterly was how the skies were crying with her - _them_ - today.

_Drip_.

A sense of powerlessness gripped her suddenly, wrapping its cruel tendrils around her and choking her. She gazed down at the figure, her heart searing at the thought of what _he_ could be feeling now. She swallowed thickly, a sob escaping her.

_Drip._

But it was too late. When their teammate had fallen, all of them had emotionally. He had seen it with his own eyes, gasping as he stared disbelievingly at their fallen comrade. Without a doubt, he was probably beating himself up about it, blaming himself for not being there, not being to save the person who had risked everything for him. What he didn't know was that it was her fault - _all_ of it was.

_Drip._

She bowed her head, bangs falling loosely to the sides of her face and shadowing her eyes. He never knew, because she hadn't told anyone. It was her fault - she had seen it coming. She recalled the boundless fear that had threatened to overwhelm her when she had it.

The vision that dictated the future.

_Drip_.

Every haunting detail was imprinted on her mind, replaying over and over like a broken recorder and a form of torture. She remembered the blast of flame that had spurted out from Cronus' palm, heading with deadly accuracy towards the unsuspecting Archie. He had taken the hit; Cronus fired another one, and - A tear leaked out, finding its warm path down her cheek.

_Drip_.

Just then, she felt a comforting hand on her shoulder. Stiffly, she looked to her side, surprised to see Jay. He stood beside her, his eyes red-rimmed and puffy, looking as though he hadn't slept all night. Truthfully, all of them hadn't. No one could, not after they had seen Cronus increase the power in his attack and fire it at Archie, only to have Atlanta jump right in front and sacrifice herself. Theresa found herself clenching her fist through her tears. One of her biggest regrets was the memory of a beaming, blushing Atlanta declaring to her, "You're right, I should stop running away from this. I never expected it, but I - I love him, Theresa. I'll tell him tomorrow!" That glimmer in her eyes that had been so infectious that Theresa had been rendered giggling like a little girl at the whole excitement. But Atlanta never got her chance, and neither did Archie.

_Drip_.

"Are - are you alright?" Jay asked gently, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her into a warm embrace. From his voice reverberated an unmistakable tinge of weariness and worry, mixed together. He followed her unmoving gaze, eyes falling upon the hunched-over Archie.

Theresa quietly shook her head and leaned back into his snug sweater. She continued to stare out at the rain, as though she could seek warmth from an unfeeling coldness. "I used to be scared on rainy days," she spoke softly. A hint of a sad smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "My mother would hug me and tell me it would be alright. But now she's gone, and it isn't. It isn't going to be alright."

Jay sobered. He watched as a sopping wet Archie got to his feet and stomped off in the harsh weather, concerned yet unsure of what to do. The death of Atlanta hung in the atmosphere, and no one dared to speak much, especially not to Archie. "We're no longer the seven," he said. Everything in those words declared defeat, even if he hadn't implied it. The prophecy was no more. No Atlanta, no seven. Only six broken-hearted friends remained, weak, against a ruthless foe.

A wave of guilt struck Theresa as she was reminded of how she never told anyone of her vision. Could it have been prevented? She knew it couldn't have been, and she had hoped against hope that it wouldn't have been real. That, maybe, for once her vision wouldn't have come true. She hadn't told anyone because she knew Archie wouldn't have been able to take it, and it would have drove a wedge in the team even before Atlanta departed to the Elysian Fields. It had pained her to be withholding such a heavy burden of this knowledge. Still, she had done it to protect them. And, in the process, perhaps she had hurt them instead. The gift of clairvoyance, she had started to learn, was in fact just a curse.

_Drip._

Another tear caressed her pale cheeks as she watched Archie stalk away. She was helpless to comfort him, she couldn't even begin to think of her loss. Jay's arm tightened around her, possibly subconsciously.

_Drip_.

She reached out, pressing her slender fingers to the cool surface of the glass. The rain gave her no comfort; it was ridiculous to seek solace in it.

Suddenly, her surroundings faded quickly. Blurry blue encased her vision as she could only witness it with horror.

_"Odie!" She heard herself cry out in panic._

_Her eyes widened as Odie soared through the air, yelling weakly, and crashed straight into the wall. He fell limp immediately, sagging to the ground with not much effort on Cronus' part._

_Her heart slowed dramatically as she looked around. Her teammates, her best friends, were lying prostrate on the ground, motionless. She didn't even dare to check their pulse. She was fearful._

_"Theresa..."_

_She whirled around, getting to her knees. "Jay!" she found herself letting out as she saw him._

_He looked so different. His hair was tousled and matted with blood. Eyes half-open and body bruised and battered, he reached out numb, shaky fingers in her direction. Then that same hand fell halfway through, and she saw him let go._

_"No!" Her own scream was so unrecognisable with all the fury and pain that she almost failed to identify it._

The vision faded as abruptly as it had came. She found herself stumbling into Jay's open arms.

"What was it?" Jay questioned concernedly.

_Drip._

Theresa froze. It seemed like there was a heavy stone lodged in her heart, dragging it down into the empty, shadowy pits of her stomach. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Could she bear to tell all this to him? Demoralised they would all be if they came to hear of it. They deserved to know, yet...

She paused hesitantly.

"I saw nothing," she lied.

_Drip_.

Her voice trembled with emotion. It was all she could do to look away.

No doubt Jay read her feelings; she was like an open book to him. He raised an eyebrow and cast her a suspicious glance which she avoided carefully. She would not betray this information to him.

_Drip_.

Jay cleared his throat awkwardly. Solemnity was the only existing factor in his voice. "I'm going down and seeing if Archie is okay," he started.

Theresa nodded silently.

_Drip_.

She watched as he left, her thudding heart wrenched in pain. A myraid of emotions pinned itself onto her, refusing to let go. She was going to lose all of them, she was going to lose Jay. They were going to lose the battle and the whole world.

_Drip_.

The crystal liquid streamed down her face, etching a salty, sticky feeling on her cheeks. The rain seemed to understand, beating harder on the window with a _pitter patter_ sound. It was far from consoling, but it was the best that Theresa could do with at the moment.

Biting back the unwanted tears, she moved towards the doorway, resigned to keep the truth from them.

_Drip_.

**You have the best intentions  
You never wanted to hurt anyone,  
And you still don't.  
But sometimes,  
The truth can't set you free.  
Though you beat your wings hard,  
Determined to soar to your freedom,  
The rain claims you,  
And you fall with it.**

_Drip._

* * *

How was it? I wonder if I managed to mislead all of you into thinking that the guy sitting in the rain was Jay at first? I do hope that the _'drip'_ words in between a few paragraphs of actions did work out. If it backfired, I apologise. Also, I hope that the poem at the end was satisfactory enough. (:

If you could, please take the time to give me some feedback. Thanks!


	5. Complementary

**Author's Note**: First of all, I'm sure of what immediately springs to your mind when you see this chapter's title (Complementary). Archie and Atlanta, Theresa and Jay, yada yada yada. However, I'm not going to write about the pairings this time. As **elegos-sirinial-shamtul** said, there isn't much male interaction in COTT fanfiction. In addition, I would like to take a deeper look into this friendship that is seldom explored, as well as give it some depth. Yes, yes. On with the story!

* * *

**Complementary**

Atlanta reached across the small coffee table and successfully snatched the control from Archie's grasp. "I'm _so_ not watching that," she huffed in annoyance, unhappy that her friend - her _best_ friend, nonetheless - had chosen not to seek her approval. After all, _he_ wasn't the only one watching the television. Grinning, she held it just out of his reach as he angrily attempted to swipe it away from her. "Channel Seven, here we come."

With much deftness, she flicked a button before Archie could do anything. Immediately, the channel switched and Atlanta smirked in satisfaction.

Archie gaped at the television screen in mock horror. "A swimming competition?" He glanced disbelievingly at a gloating Atlanta. "In what way is that better than an action flick?"

With a smug look adorning her features, Atlanta replied loftily, "It's _way_ better. Look, top class athletes from all over the world coming to compete. Which could be better?"

"Hello, guys, aren't you forgetting something?" The voice that piped up thinly veiled his irritation. Odie slunk further down on the sofa, realising that he might still be completely ignored. Still, he decided to press on anyway. "You two aren't the only ones trying to watch something. Herry, Theresa and I should have some say in this."

Herry grunted. "I think the action flick is cooler." Distractedly, he continued eating from his second bowl of popcorn while keeping his eyes on the screen.

Theresa shrugged, leaning forward. A smile spread across her face as she watched the swimmers battle it out in the water to be the first. "This isn't too bad," she commented, reaching to take some popcorn as well. "Eye candy, eh?"

Archie groaned, if not in exasperation. He glanced over at Odie hopefully. "And Odie, your vote?"

At that same moment, a loud creak in the stairs alerted them of someone's arrival, and they turned to notice Jay and Neil heading downstairs. Neil, as usual, looked like was about to do his weekend shopping, which was one of his die-hard habits, what with all the shopping bags hanging off his shoulders, ready to contain his latest buys.

"See you guys later, I'm going off to do some shopping!" declared Neil brightly, waving his overly brightly-coloured shopping bags at them. They all nodded; it came as no surprise.

"Hey, Jay, do you want to join us?" Odie called out.

Jay shook his head. "Nope, I'm going to the mall with Neil."

Apparently, Jay missed the identical, shocked looks that they were shooting at him, save for Theresa, that is. The utterly clueless leader he was, he continued to walk to the doorway, still not noticing the stares that followed him. It was only until they heard the click of the door did the titans realise Neil and Jay had already left, although faint noises outside told all of them that Neil and Jay were _talking_ to one another.

Round as saucers were Archie's eyes as he gazed after the two. The television channel problem was suddenly oh-so-conveniently forgotten. "Is it just me, or did I just miss something?" He gave Theresa a sideways glance on the couch as if she had all the answers.

Indeed, she _had_ the answers. After a light shrug, she turned her gaze back to the television while speaking. "Jay told me that he was going to buy strategy guides so he can formulate better Cronus plans. It isn't like he's going clothes shopping with Neil or something. Since Neil just so happened to be going, they decided to go together."

Odie let out a brief sigh, relieved. _And here I thought Neil had managed to change Jay into his clone_, he thought to himself. Thank goodness that wasn't the case. He couldn't imagine a shrieking leader - no, the idea of it; just _imagining_ it would have scarred him for life. Any visions of Jay acting Neil-like was impossibly terrifying to even contemplate, so he decided to stay off his creativity at the moment. "The two of them couldn't be more different, though," he pointed out.

Atlanta grinned. "Neil is just so self-absorbed, obsessed with fashion and carefree -"

"- while Jay is ever the sacrificing leader, doesn't care two hoots about how he dresses and he worries himself silly," finished Archie. He was unaware that Theresa was grinning way too brightly about how Archie had unconsciously completed Atlanta's sentence. Then again, it was far from the first time.

Herry absently chucked popcorn into his mouth while mumbling, "Neil gets annoying sometimes; I don't understand why Jay hardly gets angry with Neil."

The titans glanced at each other knowingly - at some point in time, they had to deal with Neil's fussiness and what not, and none of them had emerged without losing their patience. It was a common occurrence. Yet, they all knew that Jay sometimes stood up for Neil when they were teasing him relentlessly, or when any of them had crossed the line.

Odie could almost envision Jay and Neil at the mall, in which Neil would chastise Jay on his lack of interest in fashion, while Jay would comment on how Neil should start thinking about other people and not just himself. One so down-to-earth and the other who couldn't quite care less - what a contrast between the two, so much of an unlikely friendship. How they clicked, Odie couldn't really grasp the rationale behind the fact.

It was then that Theresa chose to speak out, quietly at first. "It's kind of a two-way thing. They may seem to be polar opposites, but in actual fact, they - they complement each other, in some way. Jay is extremely patient with Neil, and in return Neil unwittingly rubbed off some of his confidence on Jay."

Archie paused, cocking his head to one side in thought. Thinking slightly, he smiled at the remembrance of Neil reassuring Jay the other week. It hadn't been obvious much, but he had noticed it. Jay had once again been doubting himself, and Neil had sprouted off immediately, "Oh, have some confidence, will you? The rule of thumb is to always give yourself some credit at least, some trust. Just like me! I'm a perfect example of that."

In a slightly egoistical way, Neil had subtly made Jay feel better about himself that day. And Archie was beginning to realise this unlikely friendship of theirs might not be so unlikely after all.

Theresa grinned at the expressions of realisation on her friends' faces and continued. "Plus, Jay reminds Neil to show others some concern, while Neil imparts to him the knowledge of fashion. You see, what the one lacks the other makes up for. It's like fitting two different pieces of a puzzle together and forming a whole. So, in a way, they work pretty well together, and although they both may not quite admit it, they do complement each other."

Herry nodded slowly. "Yeah, so they do."

There was comfortable silence for a while, and then Archie suddenly grabbed the remote control off the table. "Hah! I've caught you off guard!" A note of triumph rung true in his tone, and as Atlanta glared silently at him, he turned the channel back to the action movie. "Stop sulking, 'Lanta, this one's good too."

"What, _sulking_? I'm not sulking!" Atlanta exclaimed sullenly. If looks could kill, Archie would have dropped dead by now.

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"I _so_ am not!"

Theresa sighed, turning to watch the movie. As far as those two could go in terms of chemistry, when they got to a fight, it would probably last forever.

* * *

_One hour later..._

"We're back!"

Jay and Neil entered the living room. Not surprisingly, Archie and Atlanta were still going at some argument (it could have been the same one). Odie and Theresa were trying - to no avail - to watch the show, while Herry was contented just to have popcorn in his hands.

Theresa noted that Jay was actually carrying a bag from a designer store - a _clothes_ store. Raising an eyebrow, she pointed to it. "What's that?"

Jay blinked in confusion. "Huh?" He raised his right arm, and in doing so, the bag as well. He coloured slightly. "It's nothing, really; I just bought a shirt."

Neil beamed hugely. "He means with _my_ help, that is! I picked out the best, classiest shirt off the rack for him."

All the other titans resisted the urge to roll their eyes, instead choosing to concentrate on what foreign, yet strangely delightful smell had mystically appeared in the air.

"What _is_ that?" Herry stated aloud, his eyes widening with surprise. That smell was undeniably...

"Pizza!" Jay declared. He placed one of his plastic bags on the table, and the strong aroma of pizza wafted through the air. "This will save Athena the cooking time."

"Whoa, thanks!" Herry grinned excitedly. The prospect of food was always inviting, _especially_ pizza.

Jay cast a glance at Neil, who was currently pouting a little. "Don't thank me, thank Neil. He was the one who bought the pizza."

Archie frowned, a critical gaze directed at Neil. Since when did Neil use his own precious money to buy something for his best friends? "_What_?"

"You heard the man," Neil answered, crossing his arms. "He forced me to treat all of you to pizza with my new model paycheck because he didn't have enough money."

"_Convinced_ you, not forced," corrected Jay, but he was grinning anyway.

Theresa smiled gently, alternating her gaze between the two. Somehow, they had both changed the other, whether they knew it or not.

_Yes_, she thought. _Complementary, indeed._

* * *

**Author's Note**: I have always loved the subtle Jay/Neil friendship that has been applied in the show. Yes, I think there exists such a closeness in some of the episodes, more notably **The Game Plan**. In the opening scene, I was absolutely - and pleasantly - surprised to see Jay and Neil shopping together. Why in the world would Jay go shopping with him? Usually it tended to be Jay and Theresa together, doing the deed of shopping, rather than Neil. Anyway, it got me thinking about the interaction between Jay and Neil, and I decided that they _were_ good friends.

I hope that the above scenes were not OOC! I always imagined that the friends would ponder on this Jay/Neil friendship sometime or later, seeing both had a world of a difference. And of course, seeing how Theresa was usually the empathetic one, and closest to Jay, she would understand it immediately. And yes, I do think Jay and Neil somewhat complement each other, where each of their strengths and weaknesses overlap - in a good way, of course. And instead of putting a firsthand experience of this (Jay and Neil shopping together and interaction), I decided to make the friends discuss this to get a different point of view.

Yup, enough of my endless babbling, please get to reviewing instead! XD


	6. Us

**Author's Note**: I know, I know. It's been more than a month since I last updated anything. This is one fact I'm not proud of, but lately, commitments have been getting into the way of any free time I have, and I've been busy, returning home very late and with tons of work. But anyway, so sorry to leave you guys hanging - I'm back for good, though it's questionable how long I might disappear again, but I _will_ come back. And I will update A Ski Trip to Remember after this, as soon as I can. Undoubtedly this isn't the fic that you want me to update the most, but it just struck my mind and wouldn't leave me, so... Well, yeah, enough said.

With that , I bring you a traditional team piece for this chapter. Just because. Starts with a sort-of summary, and then next are the separate views from all the seven.

* * *

**Us**

What exactly could you call them?

Anyone on the outside would have simply dismissed them as a team, brought together to save the world from dire consequences.

To the gods, perhaps they would have described these seven different teenagers, each with their own unique spark, quirk and personality, as a community of trust and acceptance. And that was true, for no one could live with them just one day without seeing all of these being lived out in their far-from-ordinary lives. Obviously, one would have to learn to trust the other when battling with an insane, crazed god. However, they were talking _total dependency_, something that was undoubtedly always hard to achieve. And why so? Simply put, you would need trust in the equation when life and death was concerned.

But to the teenagers themselves, it was a completely different matter. Yes, technically, they were a team. They were a community of love and acceptance, albeit a rather small one. However, they referred to themselves collectively - with hearts and minds united as one, love existing in their friendship and warmth of a true family.

Yes, a family. That's what I call us.

* * *

He squinted at the older photograph, his jaw dropping a little in surprise. The supposedly sparkling blue eyes that could charm almost anyone were faded. Beautiful, but faded, without a spark of enthusiasm in them as he had then posed for the photoshoot. They lacked warmth and any form of emotion should anyone look closely. In fact, he knew no one would have.

Then he turned, facing the other photo frame. It stayed on his bedside table, possibly the first thing he saw in the morning when he got up and the last thing he looked at when he went to sleep. In it was him again, only a different him. The features were still the same, with the dazzling smile, blond hair and those same blue eyes, but he could see a world of a difference. The smile was a little wider, a little more geniune; the eyes had a special twinkle in them, reserved only for photos such as these.

He stood in the back, not really the main focus of the entire picture. In fact, six other people stood alongside him. Yet there was something about it - warm, sincere. In a time where he felt unloved and that he needed to prove himself, he was shown otherwise.

Yes, the picture depicted the family that he had.

* * *

He wished the sands of time would reverse themselves and bring him back to the age of loathing.

Those days where he had gazed out of the pale, frosted window, watching as the pale, fading streaks of moonlight fell into the eclipse of darkness - yes, those were the days he wanted to return to, now.

He could still remember the smug smirk on his roommates' faces, as though they were self-sufficient, better than him. They had mercilessly taunted him with the cruel sting of his life as an orphan, and how he was no better than them. They all had no family, but now that had changed. Well, at least it had changed for _him_.

How he longed to return to those days just for one second and wipe that condescending smile off their faces when the onslaughts of "You will never have a family to love you." had hit him like a ton of bricks.

Would he just _love_ to tell them:

"But in a few years' time, I will have."

* * *

He was always the first to get the answer to a Math question without doubt. Math was a piece of cake to him. Yet, perhaps there was just one little question that niggled at the back of his mind, something that he was unable to answer.

What were the chances, anyway?

The probability of him finding friends after years of solitude were highly unlikely; too incredible to be true. He had given up trying to calculate such a complex sum of figures, because they didn't make sense. It wasn't supposed to happen, it just wasn't.

Even more amazing was the fact that he not only gained one friend. No, on the other hand, he had gained a whole family. A family where six other people looked out for him and helped him in times of need, people who gave him a place where he finally found that he in fact _did_ belong.

So much for Science and probability, he was actually starting to believe in miracles now.

* * *

A life on the farm? Check.

A life on the farm with your granny? Check.

A _peaceful_ life on the farm with your granny? Check.

He hadn't thought that he had been lacking anything. Sure, he hadn't had any parents; only his granny remained, but that was enough as far as he was concerned. Anytime he was hungry, he just needed to head outside to grab a fruit or two (or maybe a dozen), and school was slack. Everything was perfect - well, nearly.

Perhaps it wasn't till he met true friends that he knew the real meaning of perfect. He may have been enrolled into a school where classes were extremely difficult and it was hard to score, and he may have had been tasked with a dangerous job of defeating an evil god of time, but he had his friends. They had their ups and downs, times when they hit rock-bottom, but they always made it back as good friends. Simply because that's what good friends do.

No, rather, that's what a _family_ would do.

* * *

_Cronus_.

The slightest sound of the name would make him stiffen and return to his stoic and irrepressible Mr Responsibility side. It hadn't been because he was a perfectionist, and he wanted to complete the task well. No, it dug deeper than that. Maybe it was because he had too much to lose; too much at stake here. His family, his friends... No, _two_ families, in dire need of protection. More than that, his surrogate family - still undeniably fragile, undeniably weak, undeniably loved. He wouldn't let go of them; Cronus would have to go through him first. He would go to the ends of the world to save them.

Hardly could anyone have helped him regain his self-confidence after his terrible act he chose to commit, nor the disappointment his real family had felt when he had let them down. Hardly anyone except his team, that is.

They boosted his morale when down. They encouraged him when he needed it. And he wanted to do everything he could to repay them.

Ironically, he had a lot to thank Cronus for.

After all, without Cronus, he wouldn't have met them.

* * *

Running, that gave her a kick. The rush was evident whenever she set her feet pounding harshly on the ground, darting at speeds nearly impossible for anyone else.

Yet, that didn't stand out the most. She could still remember the exhilarating rush that had coursed through her very veins as she stood, poised and ready for battle, with six other people behind her. The fight was awesome and everything, but the feeling that there was someone you could trust behind you, someone who would watch your back, was simply the most amazing thing she had ever experienced in her life. She couldn't really describe it, but the rush of warmth kept her going even in the darkest hours, and when she felt like giving up on hoping.

It was the unity that bound them together as one, a family.

And it was the one thing that she would appreciate in years to come.

* * *

There had been times when she had wondered about the whole reason of her existence.

Really, to herself, she thought that she didn't have much to live for. Her precious mother had passed away, giving in to the shadowy clutches of Death, while her father fully immersed himself in work to push away the pain he felt, and as a result, he had been swallowed up by his career. And she? Well, she had nothing. It seemed on first glance that she owned all there is to life, as she had the money, the fighting skills, even the looks, but it had all amounted to nothing. She had nothing to fight for, nothing to save and protect. She had been leaving a life of no meaning, subjected only to her own needs and desires, and she gleaned no peace from it all.

But along came her chance, where it was finally time where she could do something right and meaningful. Six friends, one world, one crazed immortal. Yet, she had finally found true friends she could count on who didn't befriend her just for the money. Instead, she had people who loved her and cared for her. Maybe they fell out sometimes, and some called her a Drama Queen (purple-haired jerk in particular), but that's what all friends would do. No, but true friends would have accepted her flaws and continued to be her friend anyway, which was what they did.

She had gone from being lonely to having a real family that she could count on.

Yes, and she was sure they all believed that this, was a family worth fighting for.


	7. Untold

**Author's Note**: Haha, I've popped out again from the little hole that I've been hiding in, and finally posted another story. Though I'm pretty sure maybe everyone has forgotten I exist now (I say that jokingly, of course, but it _is_ possible) This is a collective voice piece and therefore, it isn't really characterised by any dominant individual narrator. Really, when I wrote this piece, I didn't quite think of anyone who could be seen saying this, it's really them talking together, in a way. And this story could be more suited for BB, another show I'm writing for, and one of the lines here kinda was inspired from that show itself, and the basis of sleeping in class and what not. But I do admit, placing some of the focal points of the struggles of being an unknown saviour from BB here opens up a bit more insight, I think. Though if you don't agree, feel free to say so (if you even watch BB). Please leave some comments, I'd really appreciate it!

* * *

**Untold**

Is this life really worth it?

You spend these days for the four years, watching as your grades casually slip by your fingers, seemingly out of grasp. You see yourself dashing to every class after the bell goes, and you're still late though you huff and puff your way through. Your sleepy eyes close oh-too-naturally when the teacher drones on about some needless subject, and you're found out; you're given a shelling again. You could hardly keep awake during the day, save for the times where being awake mattered, where closing your eyes could mean a certain death. After all, one must always be alert no matter what when life was on the line.

The starting of your saving days saw no death, but it neared the end where your eyes had seen bloodshed. Young, yes, but the hallow shells of the empty eyes told everything about you - war. You had seen death, you had seen war, you had seen blood. You had felt pain.

And as you stand, being lectured by the teacher, or as you send back news of your grades back to your parents, only to receive nothing less than a scorching scolding, you open your mouth, but close it again. You want to tell them about this life you lead, you really do. Yet this is way beyond your hands. This is something that must remain a legend, a myth, only to be studied during class as mythology and nothing more. It's not like they'd believe you, anyway, would they? And the unfairness of it all seizes you, gripping you in a clutch equivalent of death. No one has heard of your chivalrous deeds. And really, no one would ever come to know.

And you ask yourself, is it really worth it?

You stop and doubt, sometimes. It's never one death, you know now. With every death, a little piece of you, your heart, dies along with it, until at the end, is there anything really left? You can't answer that question.

And you certainly can't tell anyone about this.

It's hard to know that you've put in so much of your life and effort and energy just to save the world when it's hidden from the saved themselves. There is no gratitude, no understanding, no "You're so awesome!" from anyone, and it's hard. You're the hidden helper, the guardian angel that hovers above all, saving yet not being saved, giving but not receiving. It would be impossible for you not to pause and wonder.

But then you remember. You didn't get into this for gratitude. Now, even as you had accepted this heavy burden, you had subconsciously known the consequences. Yet, although with the knowledge of what could happen, you forged on and determined that you were doing it for the people, and because you cared.

_Is it worth it?_

And finally, you can answer your question.


	8. Sunset

**Author's Note**: Okay, I can't believe I've re-typed this author's note three times already. Yeah, that doesn't make sense, I know. Anyway, this piece is inspired by this song I came across when I was watching some amv of an incurably addictive anime. The song is **Things I'll Never Say** by** Avril Lavigne**, which only now I've discovered is amazingly nice. It would help if you play the song at the same time, though this isn't a song fic. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

* * *

**Sunset**

Footsteps. They were pattering behind me, footfalls louder than mine. I picked up my speed, drawing myself to the maximum I could bear. I was panting - I could feel it. Almost flying, I dove over the invisible line we had chalked up for the run, stumbling and crashing to the floor in a heap.

I was growing clumsy, was it something to do with hi- I shook my head adamantly, more to myself than anyone else, although I was sure he was staring at my apparent silent monologue with myself. A small grin tugged the edges of my face as my gaze briefly darted to the side. At least I hadn't lost any of my speed, though the run had sent my heart into overdrive - in more ways than one.

"You're fast."

I blinked, turning to face my best friend. A cocky grin made its way to my face almost immediately, and it faded just as quickly. On his face was a smile as well, but it was different. The corners barely turned up; a sad smile... Anyway, since when did he actually admit I was fast? Sure, I was quick on my feet and way speedier than anyone else I knew, but he never found it within his almost-Neil-sized ego to be able to say so.

The wind came in suddenly, gently brushing past us and covering up the stony silence that had lapsed between the two of us. I almost stomped my foot in frustration. What was this? We were good friends, the best of friends even, but now we had graduated to an atmosphere neither of us could identify - or maybe he could and I just didn't know. That infuriating sad smile that was sickeningly plastered on his face for these few days, and as hard it was to say, we had changed.

Was it the war?

Was it the death?

My face twisted into a pained expression, and he seemed to notice.

"Are you okay, Lanta?" He reached out a hand, but I pulled away. For a second, the sudden memory of a couple of days ago flashed past down the memory lane - his hand grasping mine and pulling me to safety, falling into his embrace...

I looked away for a second, as if hazel eyes searching. Instead, I sat down on the lush green. Pulling my legs closer, I stared out into the wide expanse of city down below the hill. "Maybe that's a question I should be asking you."

The statement slipped out oh-so-naturally and I almost covered my mouth in embarrassment. As Theresa had once told me, I had to run some thoughts through before shooting them out of my mouth in a flurry. Obviously I hadn't quite gained this ability called sensitivity, because his jaw dropped nearly to the floor and he gave me a wide-eyed stare. An almost panicked expression crossed his features, then it vanished and left me wondering what in the world this whole issue of his was all about.

"It's not like you'd understand anyway." The sigh made me shoot an unwarranted glare at him.

"Oh? Try me."

He glanced over at me. I could see the gears practically turning in his head; he was debating whether to tell me or not, I could tell.

"Well?" I asked rather impatiently.

He paused, his eyes not meeting mine. "There's this girl."

A weird feeling plagued me out of the blue, as though my heart was sinking - no, being dragged - right to the bottom. I nodded when all I really wanted to do was push my fingers into my ears childishly and chant to block out what would come next. Oh, so that was what was bothering him? A little flame of what could be called anger suddenly struck up in the inner recesses of my chest, igniting a new kind of emotion in me. Jealousy? I rolled my eyes to myself, smirking slightly at my stupidity. Of course not jealousy... Anything but jealousy...

"I really like her... love her, even." He cast a look at me promptly. It was subtle, yet I caught it and accidentally returned it with a frown. It was yet another one of his weird, unreadable expressions that I couldn't comprehend.

I swallowed and opened my mouth. But nothing came out. It seemed that something was blocking my throat, killing every word that rose to be spoken. Finally, I managed one of my biggest questions - "Who?"

"Who...?" A startled look again. He shook his head. "You don't need to know. Anyway, I've liked her for quite long now, but I can't really tell her."

Despite that little fire eating away at my heart, the curiosity got the better of me. "Why?" I couldn't quite imagine a reason why he would hold back any confession. The he I knew was brave, wasn't it so? Or maybe it was harder than it seemed? I couldn't quite puzzle the whole situation out, because I had never felt the same way, and probably would never.

"I'm not good enough."

The simple statement, such sadness...

The sun was setting now, the streaks of brilliant crimson rays dashed across the sky like blotches of bright red paint, only in an artistic way. The glowing ember seemed to dress him in an incandescent halo, the long shadow cast behind him almost ironical. It was then a rush of thoughts invaded my mind, some foreign and others not.

Two days ago, he protected me again, didn't he? I had to admit, despite that crooked nose, he was a good guy. He had a good heart under all that layers of a macho facade that he showed to the world sometimes. He cared.

Wasn't that way better than a jock who looked insanely good, but was always mocking others? The flame burst into a full-blown fire; anger. Anger at the girl who had thought he wasn't good enough. Who was she to say that her best friend wasn't good enough? He was one of the most awesome guys on the planet, putting the problem of his oversized ego aside. He was the first one who trusted in me. I hadn't known how much I was missing until I realised someone believed in me: believed in my capabilities, believed in my strength, believed in me. Someone who trusted me, finally.

All of a sudden there were so many things I wanted to tell him.

_You're a great guy, Archie._

_You have a good heart._

_If we weren't best friends, I would say that I lov-_

My mind halted, all thoughts coming to a standstill. A warm, hot blush rushed through my cheeks, and I began chiding myself for such thinking. Friends - did that word mean nothing? I refused to look at him; I couldn't bring myself to. There were too many questions and so little answers. We were friends, weren't we? But friends would always stay friends. And maybe through such notions, an invisible line had been drawn, at least on my side. But what did that line matter, anyway? It wasn't like he felt anything.

A sense of bitterness rose, lifting through my body like a bubbling emotion.

"Well, yeah, girls are way better anyway!"

I clamped my mouth shut after the words slipped out. The expression alone on his face was enough to tell me I had done something wrong. So what if he didn't like-like me, I didn't need to hammer him down with something not the least bit encouraging.

He got up to leave. He didn't say he was going to, but I saw it. The stiffness in his back, rigidness in his movements and the glaring fact that he wasn't meeting my gaze.

Needless to say, I had done something wrong. _Really, really wrong_.

"Archie!" I called out desperately. I would say my voice betrayed no such emotion, but that would be a blatant lie. My voice wavered slightly, nervousness tugging at my heart.

He didn't turn, but he stopped.

_Come on, say you're sorry!_ I swallowed thickly.

You could almost hear the crickets chirping in the background. Yet, it wasn't the comfortable kind of silence. No, this was different - far from it.

He tensed and started walking again. His pace had quickened, and soon, it was all I could do to watch him disappear through the forest shrouded in shadows.

My chest tightened in pain. Did I really value my pride over my friends? The thought was suffocating. I blinked, not noticing that my vision was blurring slightly - or even if I did, I wouldn't have tried to acknowledge it. Even more important so, why would these remain as things I'll never say?

The warm, bright rays of golden red dipped below the horizon, magically vanishing and cloaking the surroundings in a cold, unforgiving blue, leaving me in the dark once again.


	9. Midnight

Author's Note: I've been so extremely busy and caught up with all my exams and the like, so I'm really sorry not to have updated anything for a very, very long time. I think I will have to put my other stories on a long hiatus, and sometimes I will return to update some of the one-shot pieces like this. Right now, I've more or less hit a standstill with the plot of** A Ski Trip to Remember**. Since some seemed to want a continuation of what I wrote in the previous chapter, **Sunset**, I decided to write a follow-up. (: By the way, just in case you didn't get the significance of the title 'sunset', it was intended to show the transition from lighter things to a darker mood, or something along to that effect. Alright, hope you enjoy (:

* * *

**Midnight**

The curtains fluttered in the soothing breeze, ruffling at Atlanta's toes. She stretched and yawned irritably, burying her face deep into her pillow and trying her very best to sleep. It was midnight now and utterly pitch black outside; Atlanta couldn't make out the comforting sway of the trees that she used to listen to. All she could hear was the soft rustling of the wind.

After a bit more tossing and turning, Atlanta decided to get up. There wasn't any point lazing around in the bed and trying to sleep when she could do other things, she surmised as she clambered out of bed. Maybe like packing her suitcase. As she flicked on the light switch, the warmth of light seemed to chase away the shadows that lurked in every corner of the room. There were only a few remnant that refused to go away, but the light was more comforting, she supposed. Shivering, she thought of the battle the last week, and how they had emerged triumphant over Cronus once and for all.

All of sudden, a cold, strange feeling settled over her stomach as she glanced over at her luggage, which sat unobstrusively at the door. Was it all really over? It had been a good four years of fighting for justice, but she felt strangely bereft now that it was over. It seemed that battling Cronus had become something like an everyday occurence for them, and an integral part of their lives. In fact, come to think of it, it had started off everything. It had sparked a good, solid friendship with six other entirely _un_-like-minded people (but that had went completely peachy), an adventure of a lifetime, and...

The uneasy emotion intensified when her mind thought back to her purple-haired jerk. They had been the bestest buds, done everything together - ranging from Cronus-missions, skate-boarding and even going to the _dance_ - but lately, they'd been out of sorts. _You mean, ever since the time when Archie mentioned he liked someone else_, her inner voice murmured snidely, and rather all-knowing too, perhaps.

"Oh shut up," Atlanta said aloud to herself, partly out of annoyance and partly due to her discomfort. It shouldn't have bothered her at all, she knew, but for some reason, it did. It bothered her _a lot_. In fact, if she wanted to be honest (even though she rarely did), it bothered her every day, and almost every single waking moment. It irked her so badly that she had lashed out and hurt her own best friend, and the guilt was still there. After that, things hadn't been quite the same again. It wasn't unusual for Archie to be stubborn, but it seemed strange, almost as though Archie had been hurt by her words.

"It doesn't even make sense," Atlanta grumbled to herself as she walked to the door and opened her luggage. Inside lay all her clothes, tossed haphazardly about - she hadn't actually folded them - and then she spotted her skateboard. She gently took it out and set it on the floor, letting it wheel a bit to and fro. She shouldn't have, because the nolstagia hit her full force. She would miss them all. Theresa, Herry, Neil, Jay, Odie and most of all, Archie, her friend that probably wasn't her friend anymore.

It wasn't as if she hadn't tried to apologise! She had waited around for him after school the next day because she had woken up late, and she had grabbed his sleeve, but then the words suddenly wouldn't come. Blame it all on her stubborn streak. After that, she would try to open her dastardly mouth during lunch, or during the walk home, but it wasn't any good - her throat was wedged shut. _Yeah, right, you_ really _tried very hard to make it up to him_, the voice chanted again inside her head. _You grabbed his sleeve, let it go and stalked off huffily when you realised you couldn't bear to lower your pride to say a single sorry. The other times, you were just hoping he would say that he forgave you and save you the trouble of an apology, wherepon you would probably proceed to banter with him -_

Atlanta shushed her mind immediately. "No, I really was going to say sorry!"

_Yeah, I know you were_, the voice replied sarcastically.

Atlanta mentally locked her infuriating inner voice into a prison and promptly threw the lock away. Sitting on the floor and looking her skateboard, she realised that this would be it. They would be going their separate ways, everyone of them would, and friendships don't always last forever. Some do, but most fade and drift apart, and Archie - She would never get her chance to say goodbye, would she?

Gritting her teeth, she got up to her feet. "Okay, you knock on his door and apologise," she demanded - to herself, that is - resolutely, stalking to her door. "To end off in a good note," she added on a little less determinedly, the effects of an abominable thing called confusion striking her. Good point, why did she care so much? "Friends and all, you know," she answered herself before her nefarious inner voice could reply from behind the mental prison walls. She was sure that if any of her teammates would stumble upon her now, they would think her quite so very insane.

She was just about to open the door when she heard a shuffle of footsteps outside. Instinct kicked in and she threw open the door -

- Thus ending up in whacking her would-be assailant.

_Assailant? That looks more like purple hair, and a hoodie..._ Atlanta's jaw dropped, half in horror and half in embarrassment. She had just flung open the door into her sort-of best friend's face! That single-handedly could go down in history as the worst executed sorry ever taken place in the world.

"Archie? Are you oka-" The words died in her throat when she saw what was with him. His luggage was right beside him, and he had been holding it. With his other hand, he was rubbing his jaw ruefully and alternating between a look of annoyance and another similiar to one like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Archie!" Atlanta couldn't keep off her open-mouthed shock as she took in his sight. He had been trying to creep away unnoticed and leave ahead of time, she could tell. No one heaved a luggage around in the dead of night and acted like a shocked poor animal about to be shot when being discovered. _Well, he_ was _knocked down by a door, and no thanks to you_, her inner voice said in its usual snarky humour, but Atlanta ignored it. Instead, she shoved away her open-mouthed expression (_aka_, the voice chimed in, _the best fish impression_) and gave him one of her best glares. "Were you going to leave?"

Archie got to his feet, seemingly having forgotten being knocked off his feet by Atlanta's door. He didn't even make any mention of his anger, though the traces of pain were still apparent in his frequent jaw-rubbing. "Ssh, keep it down," he hissed, grabbing his luggage. "You're going to bring down the whole building, 'Lanta."

_'Lanta. He called me 'Lanta!_ Atlanta tried to stave off the weird feelings that engulfed her. Big deal, so he hadn't called her by her name in a long while, let alone her nickname. But that didn't really affect her in the least, did it? She was starting to doubt that Archie was just a friend, and the thought made her cringe. She forced them away, locking them into the mental prison with her protesting inner voice, and found her _own_ voice. "Well? So were you going to leave?"

Archie clenched his teeth. "Yes," he replied coldly. "But that's none of your business."

The glare slipped right off Atlanta's face, but the coldness slipped in. It seemed the shadows were taking over the hall, and the light almost seemed to dim. "Why? Why are you leaving?" she heard herself saying in almost a whisper.

"Why not?" Archie returned dryly as he put down his luggage again. His eyes bore a haunted look, and almost as if he was reliving some pain experience that he wished that he would forget. "You want the truth?" he asked wryly, even though he knew the answer. "Well. I wanted to save myself the pain -" he glared at Atlanta in return - "and avoid someone."

Her heart hurtled right down from its place in her chest and it found itself somewhere in between her toes and her stomach. It shouldn't hurt, it really shouldn't - but it _did_. So badly. He had been talking about her, and she knew it. His body language was practically shouting it to her - his narrowed eyes and crossed arms proved it. "What?! I didn't do anything wrong!" Atlanta shot back briskly, biting back tears she didn't even know were starting to gather in her eyes. "It's the last day before everyone goes their own separate ways, and you want to leave?! We spent four years together, so if you can't stand the sight of me, then at least stick around for the rest of the teammates!"

Archie appeared to soften at Atlanta's emotionally-charged words. "The problem isn't you, Atlanta. The problem is what I have _with you_." He looked as though he regretted saying it right after he did.

Atlanta couldn't help but roll her eyes. "And that's supposed to make me feel better?" It wasn't after the words left her mouth that she realised that _she_ had indirectly confessed that his opinion of her actually mattered. Thankfully, the darkness also shrouded the light blush that tinged her cheeks (although she would have denied it anyway).

Archie smiled his crooked smile, but it was not without a bit of wistfulness. "Yeah, I guess?"

A moment of silence iced over the atmosphere, and it was so deafening that they could hear the hall clock ticking away in its usual soft self. Midnight was slowly trickling away as the both of them stared at each other quietly. It was broken when Archie finally picked up the luggage, and the wheels of his baggage made a faint scrapping noise that defeated the delicate balance of silence that had settled over them.

"I'm going, 'Lanta," Archie said shortly as he started to move down the staircase. Before Atlanta could open her mouth to say anything further, he stopped in his tracks. "And no, don't ask me to stay." He murmured something else under his breath, and faintly Atlanta could catch the words, _"because... wouldn't be able to... bow out and stay..."_

"Archie! Don't!" Atlanta rushed after him down the stairs and grabbed his luggage from him at the landing. "I still haven't said -" Her mind whirled as she tried to form the words. _Say sorry! Quick!_ Her inner voice somehow broke free from its prison and was currently hopping around as though the floor was flaming. _Say it!_

"Archie, I'm - I'm so-"

What happened next made her shocked her so badly that she dropped the luggage right on the floor, barely missing her toes. Archie lurched forward briefly and wrapped his arms around her. Too stunned to give him anything but a, well, _stunned_ expression, she stood rooted to the spot, eyes wide and unblinking. Then he pulled her into a tight embrace, not seeming to notice that she closely resembled a wooden doll, save for the fact that she was very much in fact alive.

"Atlanta, goodbye. You were the best friend I ever had." He paused for a moment, and she felt his embrace tighten a bit. She had to strain to hear his next words, but they gave her the biggest, most tremendous surprise in the whole entire night. "I love you, Atlanta."

She stopped breathing.

Archie this time seemed to notice how inanimate she had become, and he sighed. "No, don't say anything. I don't want you to hear what you want to say. I know you don't feel the same way, but maybe leaving quietly would have made a lot worse." She could almost feel him smiling beside her ear. "At least I got a chance to tell you."

She was so frozen to the spot that her mouth was glued shut by some invisible force. She could only watch as he let go of her, the warmth that had engulfed her quickly leaving her body in a way that made her feel even emptier than before. He slipped by her, picking up his luggage soundlessly and turned around the corner in the hall. All she could hear was the soft click of the door sliding shut -

"Archie!" She snapped out of it, half-stumbling to get to the door, not caring if she brought down the whole house. She grabbed the door handle and almost yanked the door off its hinges. "Archie! Wait! I still haven't told you that -"

The words died in her throat as she all but ran out of the brownstone dorm, still barefooted. It was dark, and only the streetlamps lighted up whatever it could of the walkway. But it shed no light on his presence, and not even his shadow remained. Only the quiet rustling of the wind could be heard, masking every little sound, and what could have been footfalls went unheard. Atlanta paused in her steps, fresh tears starting to well up in her eyes.

_Maybe it wasn't 'Sorry' he wanted to hear,_ her inner voice said quietly._ Maybe it was 'I love you'._

But he was gone.

* * *

Author's Note: Yeah, I know, that was a tad cruel, and I may write another one-shot to end things off nicely for 'Lanta and Archie, but no promises (: Please do review, I find them most encouraging and I love to hear your feedback, so do let me know what you think!


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